


You Never Know

by kashmir



Category: Supernatural, Weeds
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-17
Updated: 2006-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 16:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You just never know what turns your life is going to take, you know?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Never Know

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. Cracked out pairing and cross-over. I blame it on that fic meme that went around a few weeks ago. The muse loved this idea. Beta-ed by [](http://etzyofi.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://etzyofi.livejournal.com/)**etzyofi**.

I've lost my mind, she thought to herself. Then she mumbled it out loud, the words a bit muffled when they met the hard wall of muscle she was currently resting against. It shifted beneath her cheek and she thought she heard the beginnings of an amused rumble of laughter.

"Whassat?" The half-awake voice mumbled from above.

Nancy sat up, looking at the young man laying half naked in her bed. The bed that, until fairly recently, she'd shared with her husband. But he was gone, tragically dead and she was a widow, tragically unprepared for life without her husband and his income. The man now occupying her bed was young, virile and hunted spooks for a living. She shook her head, a tiny laugh escaping.

"I've lost my mind. That's all." She gathered the sheets up, wrapping them around her and then gave up, flopping down on the bed.

Dean - Dean Winchester, he told her, finally, after the last round in the bathroom - rolled onto his side and flung an arm around her, burrowing in close, moist breath on her shoulder. She stifled a giggle, one that would've come out sounding just this side of loony she imagines, when he starts almost immediately snoring. She never would've pegged him as a cuddler but goes to show, you just never know.

She closed her eyes, the myriad sexual antics they'd gotten up to that day catching up with her.

You just never know...

....

It had started out like any other weekend. Or well. Normal for them since Judah... since Judah. But then... the lights had started to flicker and all kinds of fucked up shit with the electricity went down. Called the electrician - he told her there was nothing wrong.

Right after he left, she started hearing.. god, it sounded like RATS or something in her walls. She remembers putting her head down on the counter in her kitchen and wanting to scream or cry or god, just SOMETHING.

But then there had been a knock on her door and... It had been Dean. Dean, with his crooked smile and his fake badge and really fucking sexy.... everything. He'd said he was with the gas company but.. she'd known better. No gas man had ever driven a classic Chevy to a job or worn a leather jacket quite so well.

She'd let him in anyway and given him some coffee. They got to talking and she'd seen the shadows in his eyes. Knew what they meant. She'd caught herself reaching for his hand, the mother in her wanting to comfort him. The woman in her had other ideas, however.

They'd ended up on her kitchen counter, his pants around his ankles while he fucked her frantically, only having a half hour before the boys were due back from school.

She came twice and as he was leaving, she asked him back the next day. He winked and swaggered down the lawn to his car.

....

He'd shown up the next morning with doughnuts and coffee. They coffee was cold and the doughnuts were stale by the time he got done eating her out and fucking her - once in her hallway, once in her shower.

They'd sat down at the counter, her face rubbed raw by his stubble, his back covered in red tracks from her nails and ate and drank, making small talk. He mentioned a father, a brother and again, she saw shadows in his eyes. She didn't want to press the issue but she knew she would if he kept hanging around.

The lights had flickered then and she swore. Dean raised an eyebrow at her and she explained the whole tale of woe to him - the lights, the electrician, the rats or whatever. He'd listened, nodded and his demeanor, his posture shifted into something resembling readiness.

Dean had leaned over and taken her hand, asking to please not be mad with him. He'd then spun a tale of demons and ghosts, hunting and road trips and... she'd believed him. He told her he'd heard from a friend of his in the area about her housing development being built on an ancient Native American burial ground and that some of the spirits seemed none too happy about all the change.

Just then, things had gotten interesting. Objects were tossed at them, a few windows blown out and her favorite vase was smashed but... Dean had killed or destroyed whatever it was with a gun and some muttered Latin, all while wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

Nancy had been so thankful he wasn't going to charge her, she gave him a blow job right where he stood in the midst of her torn apart living room.

...

Shane and Silus had some sort of thing that weekend, a camp and Dean had stuck around all that week, coming over for coffee and hard fucks against her washer, walls, the floor when they were at school. She told Lupita to take the weekend off, bought a case of beer after stocking the fridge and met Dean at the door wearing only the shirt he'd left on her laundry room floor the day before.

They spent the next two days in bed, where Dean had finally owned up to those shadowed eyes, explained about his brother taking off for Stanford, his dad being suddenly incommunicado. The last job he'd been working on in New Orleans, something about voodoo. All in between giving Nancy some of the best orgasms she'd ever had. Outside of her marriage anyway.

Nancy had lain in his arms and cried for Judah, something she hadn't done since the funeral and he'd held her, then kissed her and she knew, knew he understood. The sex that time wasn't frantic or hard or any of those other things it had been before.

They'd showered together afterwards and the moment seemed gone as they collapsed in the bed together, with Nancy contemplating the strange turns her seemingly normal suburban life had taken as she drifted off.

...

The ringing of Dean's cell woke them both Sunday morning and he rolled over with a grunt, his hair roughened legs tangling with hers. He missed the phone call and laid with her pillowed on his chest while he dialed his voice mail. Whatever the message was about or whoever it was that had called, it made every muscle and line of Dean's body vibrate with sudden tension. He sat up and swung his legs out of bed, looking for his clothes.

He turned to Nancy, an apology ready on his lips and she smiled, holding the sheet to her chest and waved her hand. "Don't worry, kiddo. You go do whatever it is you do. This..." She gestured between them. "This was what it was. If you're ever in Agrestic again, look me up."

Dean gave her a wry smile and kissed her quickly before dressing. She got up and dressed as well. "You want some coffee to take with you?"

He nodded, his eyes grateful as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Where're you headed?" She asked while the coffee brewed.

"Palo Alto."


End file.
